


You Gotta Luv Hairpins

by Reality 2_1 (reality_2_0)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:52:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2832230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%202_1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP set after the Kennedy Center Honors Dinner 2012</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Gotta Luv Hairpins

“Would you mind giving me a hand?”

He had just removed his tie, turned to his wife who stood in front of the mirror, a smile on her face when his gaze met hers, before she rolled her eyes, pointed at what seemed a myriad of hairpins, holding her hair in place.

“Always.” He stepped closer until he was directly behind her. They were almost touching, and he could feel the heat of her body.

“You look beautiful,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders, looking at her, looking at the picture they presented together.

“You already said so. Thrice,” she said, although she sounded pleased.

“It was true then and is still true now.”

“Charmer.”

“You were the most beautiful woman in this room.”

“Then you just forgot to take a good look around.”

He shook his head, hoping his gaze could convey that he spoke the truth as he saw it. Everyone had dressed up tonight, but to him, she had been the most striking woman for a plethora of reasons.

He recalled her laughter, the way it had made heads turn, including his own, the way the room’s lighting made her dress shine, how she had been a sparkle of colour in a room of people mostly clad in black and white. A lot of men had looked at her with interest in their eyes, she had definitely been noticed by the women in attendance.

“So...,” she asked when he didn’t react for too long.

“Sorry, I was busy looking at my beautiful wife.”

She opened her mouth to protest once more, but he shook his head. Sometimes, they had to agree to disagree. He didn’t mind, as long as she understood he believed what he said.

They were slowly but surely nearing forty years of marriage, and he didn’t regret even one of those years. It hadn’t been an easy road to travel, but they had made it through. He wouldn’t mind living through another forty years or so with her even though he knew nature surely wouldn’t allow it.

Reaching up with his thumbs, he began stroking the soft skin of her neck, rubbing it when she released a faint moan.

Their eyes met in the mirror again, and he held her gaze while he reached up, found the first hairpin and carefully pulled it out. He gave her a soft smile before he began removing the pins in earnest, loving the feel of her soft hair under his fingertips. He took his time, but she wasn’t in a hurry, let him work in silence.

Sometimes, there was so much to say there weren’t any words to convey the simple message that he loved her, so he let his hands do the talking.

It was good to be with her like that, to relax. So often, their paths barely crossed while they were on their ways to one place or the other. It made him treasure each moment such as this one. Some people had told him they couldn’t live that way, that a relationship needed more to function, and although he wouldn’t mind spending more time with his wife, it worked for them, the moments they had together used for all they were worth.

The last pin removed, he ran his hands through her hair. She rolled her eyes at him.

“Stop that. I’m starting to look like a mop.”

“You are beautiful. And I love your hair.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Her dry tone reminded him of all the articles that had featured her hairdo as if it were one of the most important things in a first lady.

He went to fetch a brush, brushing her hair with tender strokes.

“To me, you are perfect.”

“Stop it, or...”

“Or what?”

His hands were on her shoulders, and he began to knead her supple skin. Her eyelids fluttered, fell close, and he allowed himself a smile. Applying a bit more pressure, he was not surprised when she moaned out, bit down on her bottom lip. Stopping his massage, he lifted her hair off her shoulder, leaned down so he could place a kiss to the nape of her neck.

Her eyes opened. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Kissing my beautiful wife.”

“Hmmh, I’ve been kissed better in my life.” Her tone of voice held a note of amusement, and he turned her around, meeting her lips in a kiss starting out tender but soon turning heated as tongues met, teeth nibbled.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all evening,” she said when they had to part for breath.

“You’ve been thinking about this?”

“Fishing for compliments?”

“No. Let’s just say I’m... delighted.”

Her smile was warm, her gaze full of trust and want. He touched her cheek, let his hand rest there for a moment. “Will you let me make love to you?”

He seldom asked, didn’t need to, but something compelled him to speak out tonight.

“Yes.” Her answer came without hesitation, and when she took his hand to lead him to their bed.

It was a dance they both knew how to dance so very well, yet it had lost nothing of its charm. The prospect of intimately joining with her, feeling her naked skin against his own, to worship her body, receiving tenderness and desire in return had never lost its appeal, never would when it came to him.

He reached behind her, intent to help her out of her dress, but she shook her head, stepped back.

“No. It’s my turn.”

It was one of the things keeping their love life fresh. With her, he never knew when she would let him take charge and when she would insist on leading their sensual game. Nodding his agreement, he stepped in, his hands coming to rest on her waist.

“I’m all yours.”

“Yes, you are.”

It wasn’t possessiveness speaking but a simple acknowledgement of a fact. They both knew they had found their perfect match in each other.

“Then do your worst.”

She reached up, traced the shape of his lips with her index finger, the light caress tingling on his skin in the most pleasant way.

“How about I do my best?”

“Don’t you always?”

She put her finger over his lips, made a shushing sound. He understood, inclined his head so she knew he understood and would stop talking, at least for the time being.

“Now, let’s start with your tie,” she said, deftly working on removing this item of his clothing. He had to smile as he remembered one time she had pulled him all the way to the bed by his tie, not unlike a dog on a leash. He had had his payback later when he used the very same tie to bind her wrists.

This time, she let the tie fall to the ground where she stood before paying attention to his shirt, reaching for the first button.

“Have you ever thought about the amount of buttons on a men’s shirt?” she asked. It was a rhetoric question as she continued without waiting for a reply. “On my last trip, I had the pleasure to listen to two men discussing shirts. It seems there’s quite a difference between plastic buttons and those made of mollusc shells. Anyway, the average shirt has seven buttons running down the placket.” She looked up, her smile deepening, accentuating the tiny wrinkles around her eyes he loved so much. “You surely wonder why I’m telling you that, don’t you?”

He did. It was not their usual topic for foreplay anyway.

“Because there are more reasons why I love you than buttons on this shirt.” She undid the first button. “I love your eyes, the way they often twinkle when you look at me.”

The second button.

“I love and adore your hands.”

The third button.

“I love your thick hair and could run my fingers through it all day long.”

The fourth button.

“I love your smile. It’s natural, comes from your heart.”

The fifth button.

“I love your voice. It’s such a powerful instrument and you know how to use it for the best effect.”

The sixth button.

“I love your intellect. It’s razor sharp, and I could battle wits with you all day long.”

Her fingers lingered over the seventh button.

“Are you running out of reasons?” he teased her.

“No, but it’s hard to choose only one. Let’s see...”

The button open, she slid her hands inside, let one rest over his heart.

“I love your heart. It’s big and makes you one of the most compassionate men I know.”

She stepped closer, held him tight for a long moment, while he was lost for words, not an easy thing to achieve. Then she stepped back again, helped him slip out of his shirt, making short work of his undershirt.

She hummed, allowed her hands to travel along the planes of his chest, her touch light but not tentative.

He almost asked her if she liked what she saw but didn’t as it was very clear from the way she caressed him, looked at him, that she did. As she brushed over his nipples, he moaned out at the brief contact making his cock hardening inside his pants.

Though then all carnal thoughts were forgotten for the moment when one of her hands stopped over his chest, the other trailing the path of his scar. He knew his surgery had scared her. It had scared him, too. No matter how often people would tell you something was a routine procedure, it would always be different when it concerned you or someone you loved.

“Don’t scare me that way again, okay?”

“I’ll try not to, love.”

Her eyes met his, and she got on her toes to kiss him with incredible tenderness. She withdrew, laughed out once, the sound harsh in the otherwise quiet room. “Now look at me. I almost spoiled the mood. I promise to...”

“You didn’t. I love you, and I’m glad I’m still here to experience all of this with you. I would never even dream of taking this for granted again.”

“I know,” she said. “Now would you please remove your shoes?”

As polite as her tone of voice had been, it was no question it had been an order, one he followed gladly.

Then she sank onto her knees, reached for the buckle of his belt. 

She was right, of course. There was no sense in mourning the past when you had all reason to celebrate the present.

When she had his belt removed, pulled down the zipper of his pants, she pulled them down his legs, helped him out of his pants.

Left in his boxer briefs, he wished she would follow suit as he longed to see more skin, but she didn’t seem interested in this particular prospect at the moment. She only threw a short glance his way, her eyes gleaming wickedly. It was his only warning before she trailed one finger over the length of his erection. Even through the fabric, the caress sent a shiver down his back, his flesh reacting to her touch.

“I almost feel like Christmas,” she teased.

“So how about you unwrap your gift then?” he suggested, which made her laugh out in joy this time.

“I like the way you think.”

She took her time, had only just uncovered his cock when she stopped to place tiny kisses all along its length. His hands reached out for her, tangling in her hair, his eyes falling close as mind and body relished the delicious sensations caused by his wife’s ministrations.

“I like the way you taste.”

It was a compliment he could only return, and God knew he would take his own fill later tonight.

Her lips closed around the tip of his cock, and she sucked lightly, made him long for a repetition before she sat back, fully removing his underwear.

Not ashamed of his body, even if it wasn’t the strong body of a man in his prime any longer, he waited while her eyes ran up and down his body with a distinctive look of hunger in her eyes.

“Why don’t you get up?” he asked her.

“Don’t you like me on my knees in front of you?” she teased.

He did. She would always be his equal in his mind, and he didn’t take this position of submission for more than it was. This was about tonight, about giving pleasure, not a statement. He would do the same to pleasure her in a heartbeat, and the thought of kneeling in front of her, sliding his tongue between her folds made his cock twitch.

“Some part of you seems to like me there. Never mind, did you want to tell me I’m too old for this kind of game?”

He chuckled. “No, I didn’t.”

Although he had been thinking about her knees. Not that he would admit to it now. He didn’t need to anyway. One look at her eyes, he knew she was aware of his train of thoughts. They knew each other for too long to hide such obvious thoughts from the other.

His thoughts derailed at once when she closed her mouth around his member once more, softly sucking and licking his sensitive flesh. His balls tingled, his cock reacted to her every touch, and she made him feel like a much younger man who was in immediate danger of losing the battle with his control prematurely. Her hands stroking the inside of his thighs, running over his balls didn’t help either. When she began pumping his cock in tune with her sucking motions, he came way too close to the edge for comfort.

“Love...”

She sucked the tip of his cock once more, and his eyes closed, his hands balling to fists, hoping he wasn’t tearing at her hair.

“What is it?” she asked after she had released him. “Don’t tell me this is too much...” Her eyes twinkled with mischief, an expression he adored on her. “I have seen too little of you in too long. I obviously missed you more than even I’d have thought.” She smiled but didn’t try to test his stamina for longer. Taking the hand she held out, he pulled her up and close, merging her lips with his in a kiss that didn’t leave anything to the imagination. He wanted and needed her. Their kiss went on for a long time, with her giving as good as she got, her moans mingling with his. Only when the lack of oxygen made him lightheaded, did he withdraw, resting his head on top of hers.

“Love, don’t you think it’s time for you to dress down for the occasion?”

A throaty laugh was her answer.

“As beautiful as you are in this dress, I know how beautiful you will look without it.”

“If you want me naked, you better work for it.”

Her wish was his command. Leaning down, he kissed his way along her throat, felt her pulse flutter against his lips. Her moan was quiet, but it made his heart sing, especially as he knew where to touch and kiss her to make her forget even the last inhibitions. In fact, he loved how vocal she could be. It was too bad their responsibilities seldom granted them the privacy necessary to just be themselves. Tonight, though, he wanted to hear her, wanted her to lose herself in the pleasure he’d grant her.

He removed her dress with care, knew she would want to preserve it, marvelling at the sight of his wife in only her underwear. She wasn’t what one would call a spring chicken any longer, but to him, it didn’t matter. Every inch of her was precious, beautiful to him. The love he felt for his wife had been questioned more often than he could count, but people stating theirs was only a partnership of common goals were wrong. The few people truly knowing them knew he was devoted to her, that she was the rock in the turmoil of his life. Almost since the moment he had laid eyes on her, he had known she was special. He would love and desire her until he took his very last breath.

“You’re staring.”

He slowly shook his head. “Admiring.”

Her smile was soft, a little flush appearing on her cheeks. She didn’t blush lightly, and he couldn’t help himself, softly touched his hand to her warm cheek.

“You are beautiful. So beautiful.”

“You already said so.”

“There are some things you can’t mention often enough.”

She put a finger over his lips. “I think it’s time for less talking and more action.”

“I thought you liked when I talked to you while we made love.”

She had once told him she thought he was an excellent speaker, that he possessed a gift just as special in the bedroom when he told her what he wanted to do to her, describing in explicit words what he loved about her.

Before he had become a figure of public interest, he had loved to call her during his or her trips, putting into words what he wished he could do that very moment. While he wouldn’t trade his life for any other, he sometimes missed the times they could just be themselves.

Putting all these thoughts aside for the moment, he reached for the front clasp of her bra, making the supple flesh of her breasts spill out.

Helping her out of the garment, he ran his fingers along the outside of her breasts, fascinated by the way goose bumps appeared in wake of his touch. He palmed the weight of her breasts, used the tips of his thumbs to brush them over her nipples.

A soft but audible intake of breath was his reward. Repeating the motion, he watched down at her, the slightly closed eyes, her head thrown back, baring her neck to him. Unable to resist the temptation, he licked the sensitive skin right under her ear, sucked, rejoicing at the moan she couldn’t keep in.

He had the pads of his thumbs on her hard nubs, rubbed them in a circular motion. It was hard to make out the word, but he was almost sure she’d sworn a blue streak. A woman with as sharp an intellect as he had ever met, still, she had remained down-to earth, was genuine in her behaviour towards him. He didn’t have to guess if she was happy in their relationship or if she was angry or disappointed in him.

He had wronged her more often than he could bear to recount. Tonight, though, she was happy, so was he.

Out of impulse, he stepped back, lifted her up before she could protest. Protest she did then, told him was too heavy, he wasn’t that young any longer, his heart... He ignored her, carrying her to their bed, where he gently sat her down.

“Did you even listen to me?” she asked.

“I heard every single word.”

He sat down beside her.

“And you choose to ignore me.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head but then laughed out.

Putting a hand on her back, feeling her warm, soft skin under the palm of his hand, he looked at her.

“Make yourself comfortable, love.”

“And then?”

“You’ll see.”

She gave him a calculating look before doing just what he had asked her to do.

With her, he never knew. Being able to predict her behaviour was the last thing he was striving for.

When she was comfortable, her feet propped up, she looked at him, waited for his next move.

Moving on the bed, he kneeled down before her, touching her ankles with his hands before stroking a way up her legs, stopping at her knees to apply soft pressure to urge her to spread her legs for him.

She followed his lead without hesitation or inhibition, knowing she was safe with him.

His breath caught as she bared herself to him. How would he ever be able to convey his love for her? Having held that many speeches in his life, having read that many books and poems, he felt he still lacked the perfect words, wishing he could let her see into his heart.

All he could do was to let his body do the talking, to worship her as she deserved to be worshipped.

Joining their mouths, his body weight supported by his elbows, he took his time to map out her mouth, to let her do the same to him, their tongues engaged in a playful dance which would know no loser.

He knew his erection was pressing against her thigh, that it would only need some slight adjustment for them to join. He felt she was ready, but if age had one advantage, it was they had learned not to hurry.

She was pliant while he explored her body, giving in to the sensuality of the moment. A headstrong woman as she would always have trouble to let go completely, but he knew how to touch her, how to calm or arouse her. Trust, love and intimate knowledge of each other were the cornerstones of their relationship.

When he reached her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button, she arched her back, her hands fisting the sheet underneath her. It was one of the few spots guaranteed to drive her crazy with want, a fact he liked to take advantage of at every chance. To him, there was hardly anything more mesmerizing than his wife writhing on the bed because of the desire he had evoked in her.

She reached out, raked her hands through his hair, ruffling it.

“Looks good,” she said.

He smiled, shook his head. Even after all these years, he didn’t understand her fondness for running her hands through his hair; yet, he had to admit it felt good.

“I want to make love with you,” she said, her voice rough with desire.

“Not quite yet.”

“But...”

He silenced her by trailing kisses down to the apex of her thighs. Looking up briefly, he saw she had closed her eyes again, anticipating the pleasure he was about to deliver. She knew him well enough to understand he would be taking his time, but he slowed himself even more, kissing a way down one leg, up the other, which had her mutter something. Still, when he was back where he had started the detour, this time running his tongue over her labia, enjoying the texture, the taste, the moan coming from somewhere deep inside her.

Stopping himself before he could get carried away by his own lust, he lifted his head, used his fingers to explore what he had tasted only seconds ago. Soft, her skin was so soft, and he eased a finger between her nether lips, feeling the silk, the wetness, using it to spread it over her clit. She cried out, her legs falling even wider apart, inviting him to do as he pleased.

He swallowed, closed his eyes briefly, praying for the patience to go as slow as he wanted to. So tempting the view, it was hard not to forget himself and claim what was so freely offered. When he was sure he’d be able to resist his baser instincts for a while longer, he coated a finger in her wetness, slid it over her lips. She parted them at once, licked his finger clean, biting down the tip of it.

He pulled back, used the same finger, to slide it into her wet heat. Her inner muscles contracted around his finger while her moan was loud in the otherwise quiet room. Not trying to hide his smile, he added a second finger, started a slow rhythm of thrusting inside her, using his thumb to stimulate her pleasure point, rubbing it slowly. Her back arched, her muscles tensed, she bit down her bottom lip. Knowing her like he did, he knew she wasn’t far from climaxing, needed just a little push to go over the edge.

It was in his power to tease her, taunt her, prolong the experience, but there was also a part of him that wanted to see her let go, wishing for her to experience the release. Applying more pressure to her clit, he thrust a little harder, almost instantly being rewarded by a small cry as she contracted around his fingers, her eyes tightly closed while her body went from a state of terseness to one of utter relaxation. He kept the motions up until he felt she was completely limp before he pulled away.

“I think you just killed me,” she murmured, her lips curving into a smile, her eyes only opening a little.

“Too bad. This was only meant to be the first course.”

She chuckled.

“If that’s true, I can’t wait for dessert.”

To his surprise, she sat up, stretched.

“My turn, now.”

He lifted an eyebrow, waiting for her to react, elaborate.

“Lay down.”

“You’re going to order me around?” he teased.

“I know you like it.”

In cases such like this, he was indeed happy to oblige, knowing it wasn’t about power but about mutuality, to give pleasure, make the person who meant the most to them happy. She cocked her eyebrow, waited for him to comply which he did.

Their gazes locked. As if it were the very first time, he was struck by the love and desire he found, knew she’d see the same in his eyes. If anyone asked him, their relationship was fated.

Locking one of her hands with his, she straddled him, slowly guiding his cock inside her with her other hand. His eyelids fluttered as he fought to keep his eyes open even though pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. How could he ever tire of the feeling of her tight heat surrounding him?

She sat still, giving them both time to adjust to the sensation. Unable to withstand the temptation she presented to him, he reached out with his free hand to caress her breasts in turn, stroking the outsides, stimulating her nipples, hard seemingly begging for attention. In reaction, she drew in a sharp breath while she smiled lazily.

“I like that.”

“Do you?”

“Uh huh.”

She lifted herself, sank down on him again, the feeling exquisite, perfect. He could swear she was contracting around him on purpose as she knew it would drive him even crazier.

“Love, don’t.”

“I thought…”

“And you’re right. But I’m only an old, weak man. I don’t want it to be over too soon.”

She squeezed the hand she was still holding.

“It will always be too soon. Never mind, what I see here is neither old nor weak.”

“You make me weak in the knees with pleasure,” he said.

“Good.”

Her rhythm was slow, exactly right, building up his arousal until it reached heights he didn’t think he could stand for any prolonged time. Sensing his predicament, she would stop, leaning down to kiss him, licking over his bottom lip so he’d part his lips for her. She penetrated his mouth as he was penetrating her, their bodies in synch, dancing a well-practiced dance that always felt new.

He lost his sense of time, couldn’t care less. They had the time to enjoy this encounter. No one would enter his realm in the early morning with a schedule so tight he knew there wouldn’t be time for deviations. As much as he had loved being president, he enjoyed the fact that his appointments weren’t all that pressing any longer. Important, yes, but not crucial in a way they had been before.

She moved faster now, her breathing telling him, she, too, was nearing the point of no return again.

He wanted to come with her. Freeing his hands, he used them to guide her momentum now. She let out a shuddering breath, threw back her head before she began riding him harder.

He groaned out, was close, so close.

“Please… touch yourself,” he ground out, was glad when she didn’t question him, just used a hand to slide it between her legs, rubbing her pleasure point. The sight, so erotic was more than he could handle, his orgasm hitting him by surprise.

She urged him on with words, with contracting her inner walls around his cock. His eyelids had fallen close, and he saw stars, tried to hold on to his consciousness. She hadn’t come yet, it wouldn’t do. If he spoke to her about it, she’d laugh, tell him it didn’t matter, but it matter to him.

Thrusting inside her a little harder, he was gratified when she cried out, the tension leaving her body. He could feel her slight contractions, smiled.

A minute later, she disengaged from him, snuggling up to him.

“I love you,” he said, opening her eyes to kiss the top of her head.

“Hmmh.”

“You said?”

“Hmmh,” she repeated.

Mellow and a little sleepy, he still enjoyed their banter.

“I think I didn’t quite catch that.”

She mock sighed, spoke quietly.

“First of all, you should know I love you, too. Second, if you’re still that lucid, I must have done something wrong.”

“You did everything just right.”

“Good, then shut up and let’s enjoy this moment.”

“I do. And you remember I told you that you were stunning in your dress?”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re even more stunning now.”

She shook her hand but didn’t try to correct him. Time went by slowly, her breathing evening out. He knew when she was asleep, reached for the cover with his free hand to somehow blanket them both as good as possible.

He was a damned lucky man, and he knew it.

The End.


End file.
